The Lord of Disharmony Discord rules over Equestria. Only a brave young dragon has the means to defeat him...
The once peaceful land of Equestria has fallen under the iron fisted-rule of King Discord, the cruel Spirit of Disharmony and Chaos. After defeating the six heroes known as the Elements of Harmony and deposing of the Princesses of Day and Night, Discord reigns over his new kingdom unchallenged. There is, however, one who refuses to bow down before the new tyrant. Spike, a young dragon and former ward of the Element of Magic, has managed to escape and has in his possession the one tool powerful enough to end Discord's tyranny: the Staff of Harmony. As the dragon makes his way through the perilous new Equestria, Discord will do everything in his power to stop Spike's noble quest.
Inspired by Robert Browning's poem, "Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came"
Spike looked over the old stallion curiously. He was dark brown and wore a hooded burlap cloak, his right blue eye twinkling mirthfully while his glass-like left eye stared penetratingly into Spike’s soul. The old stallion leaned forward, supporting his shaking body on his oak staff.
“Then tell me, where am I supposed to be going?” Spike enquired, adjusting the weight of his bag on one shoulder. He’d spent the last few days going in circles and it was annoying him to no end. I passed the Peppermint Forest twice and almost drowned in the Chocolate Swamp. Great, now I hate chocolate. Pinkie Pie would be devastated.
The old stallion stroked the tufts of hair on his chin. “Ye make a right at the Cliffs of Insanity, go straight until ye hit Molasses Lake, then make two lefts until ye end up on the main road. If ye find yerself facin’ the Ice Cream Slopes, then ye've gone too far.”
Spike readjusted the grip he had on a tall, bundled object to pull a bit out of his belt-pouch and slip it to the old stallion. “Thank you, old fellow. Here, take this. It’s the least I can do.” He knew that times had become tough since Discord came into power and the elderly traveler had been polite enough to stop to help him.
Passing the bit back, the old stallion shook his head. “I thank ye for yer kindness, young drake, but I have no use fer gold.” Reaching into his knapsack, he pulled something out and placed it into Spike’s hands. It was the segmented horn of an unknown animal, bone-white with splashes of red-brown, ancient symbols carved into its surface. Bands of iron and silver were wound around the outer rim of the bell and mouthpiece, which had been masterfully carved in the shape of an alicorn in mid-flight. “This here slug-horn’ll be of better use to ye. Blow into it and ye’ll be filled with the strength and courage of thirty stallions.”
It certainly is a fine instrument. Spike’s eyes wandered over the horn, taking in every fine detail of what had to have been a painstaking process of craftsmanship. “Thank you, sir. But I’m afraid that I can’t accept this.” He held it out for the old stallion to take. Instead, the oldtimer gently pushed it towards Spike’s chest, a smile on his chapped lips.
“Ye can and ye shall. A washed-up old fossil like me has no use fer it. Ye do.” He then turned and slowly waddled away, his walking stick clicking with every heavy step he took. “Good luck, young drake! In a land like this, you’ll be needing it!”
“Well, that was kindly of him,” commented the unicorn skull hanging at Spike’s hip, leather straps wrapped around its jaws and looped through its eye sockets keeping it attached to the dragon's belt.
“Yeah, it sure was.” Spike turned the horn over in his hands, feeling the slight tingling in his flesh from holding the instrument. “Is there real magic in this thing, Star Swirl?”
“Indeed there is. An old magic, yes.”
Carefully placing the slug-horn in his bag, Spike stopped to make certain that the tall bundle was still wrapped tightly before trudging up the road, spotting the old stallion entering a ramshackled cottage and shutting the door behind him. He thought about asking the old stallion to stay at his place for the night but decided against it, as he still had much more ground to cover and would rest when he felt as though he’d gone far enough. As a hatchling, Spike loved hearing tales of knights and grand adventures, wishing that he was one such individual and that he’d get to save a princess (preferably Rarity) and vanquish monsters. He used to even play with three fillies back home and pretend that he was a hero off on dangerous quests. Now that he was, he was beginning to regret it.
“A bit for your thoughts, Childe Spike?”
Although Spike wasn’t overly fond of the title, due it sounding immature and somewhat degrading, it was a title for a knight-to-be and he’d rather be called a “childe” rather than “page” or “squire,” which both seemed a tad too hoity toity for his tastes.
“It’s nothing, Star Swirl. It’s just...I always wanted to go on a noble quest,” he admitted hesitantly. “Now that I am, I’m not sure that I’m ready. What if I’m not the hero? What if I’m just some dumb kid in way over his head?”
Star Swirl hummed, which was an amazing feat for somepony that lacked vocal cords. “Spike, I’m not a believer in fate. I never consulted the runes or scryed in a crystal ball. But I do know this: you are here for a reason. You could’ve been captured or killed by Discord, but you managed to get away and with the Staff. You are neither dumb nor in over your head. Believe in yourself. I know I do.” Somehow, Spike could get the feeling that the skull was smiling at him.
“Thanks Star Swirl.” They continued their journey down the peanut brittle road in silence, with Spike routinely switching the bundle from one hand to next, reassured by the feeling of its weight. If anything ever happened to the Staff, he’d never forgive himself. I swore to Twilight that I’d keep it safe and that’s a promise that I intend to keep. Even if it costs me my life to do it.
One Year Ago…
The stone wall erupted in an explosive shower of fire and debris, knocking the sextet of ponies backwards into the Canterlot royal garden, all them battered and bloodied by their conflict as a tall, viciously-grinning creature stepped through the newly-created gap in the wall. He had a gray horse-like head but with possessed two horns, one like a stag and the other a goat, which sat upon the top of a serpentine body with the right arm of a lion, the left claw of an eagle, the left leg a cloven hoof and the right leg scaly and reptilian. He spread his mix-matched wings, one feathered and one bat-like, his hands glowing with golden light.
This was Discord, the infamous Spirit of Disharmony and Lord of Chaos, the living embodiment of conflict and strife. Princesses Celestia and Luna tried locking him away ages ago but the draconequus master of mayhem wasn’t one for imprisonment, as the six current bearers of the Elements of Harmony have recently discovered. He was vicious, cunning and, worst of all, mad, which were all the worst qualities to have in a foe.
“Mwa-ha-ha-ha-he-he! Is that really all you’ve got?! ‘Cause I’m just getting warmed up!”
A wall of roaring flames sped across the grass, twisting around the various statues to surround the six ponies, creating a wall of fire that licked at them with fiery lashes. A bubble of grayish orchid energy emanated from Twilight Sparkle’s horn, protecting the unicorn and her friends and bursting through the flames. Despite looking frail and worn-out, Twilight stood defiantly against Discord, her eyes narrowed on the draconequus as her magical aura flickered but never went out.
“It’s not...over...yet, Discord!” She panted, her eyes momentarily drifting over to spot the young dragon hiding behind a singed bush, her gaze telling him, “No matter what happens, stay where you are.” Spike reluctantly nodded, a crooked staff hugged against his chest.
Applejack wrapped her hoof around Twilight’s foreleg. “She’s right! While there’s still breath in me, Ah’m not gonna stop fightin’ ya!”
“Same here, Dipcord!” Rainbow Dash huffed, taking ahold of Twilight’s other foreleg. The others soon followed, locking forelegs with the other to form a fleshy barrier between Discord and the castle.
“Indeed!”
“Ditto!”
“Um, me t-too.”
The draconequus threw his head back and cackled cruelly. "Awww, now isn't this pwecious? Do you all really want to die this much? Very well then. I can accommodate that, if it's what you truly desire!"
Twilight's eyes met Spike's and it was in that moment that the young drake knew it was time for the Last Resort. He looked to the staff he held in his hands. It was a gnarled, icy-blue and cool-violet piece of crystalized wood that formed many prongs, including two that made the whole thing resemble a large tuning fork. The staff was, in fact, a branch taken from the Tree of Harmony and prepared for such an occasion. He'd hoped that the occasion would never have to arise to use it and yet here it was.
Spreading her forelegs and closing her eyes, Twilight's body began to hum and glow magenta, her cutie mark appearing in the center of her chest. The others mimicked their leader, each one glowing with energy that represented their Element: orange, red, purple, blue and pink respectively. Discord's grin vanished, replaced with a confused scowl at the sudden display.
"What-what are you doing? Stop that!"
"Now!"
The cutie marks launched from their owners' chests, swirling around in the air before diving towards Spike, who quickly held aloft the staff, allowing the object to draw in the cutie marks like a sponge. With each cutie mark it absorbed, the staff began to radiate and drone with a prismatic aura of brilliant light. Spike had to grit his teeth as the staff violently jerked and vibrated in his hands, an oxymoronic cold heat traveling to and from his bones at holding the staff. When the lightshow finally died down, Spike sank to one knee and observed the staff, which now held six small gems and exuded a sense of serenity and hopefulness he didn't know he could ever experience. The moment was cut short when he felt a pair of yellow and red eyes watching from across the royal garden.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Discord licked his lips with avarice hunger. "Give me that staff and I promise that I'll kill you quickly and as painlessly as possible. Okay, just a teensy bit of pain."
A violet shape tackled the draconequus, orchid-colored energy blasts pelting him as Twilight roared challengingly. "Run Spike, run!" She screamed, her gaze momentarily darting over to the drake, her eyes pleading with him to obey her. She was soon joined by Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Rarity and Fluttershy, who zapped, punched, bit and kicked Discord in an attempt to buy their friend time to flee. Spike couldn't move, his loyalty and love for his friends planting his feet firmly on the ground. Sensing his hesitation, Twilight yelled, "Now Spike! Get out of here! Go!"
"B-but Twilight, I can't..."
Rarity turned, her azure eyes wide and tearful. "Please, Spikey. Please go." And with that, Spike dashed out of the garden, refusing to look back at the sounds of struggle as he ran. He bolted through the castle, past Canterlot's streets and into the unknown, not knowing where he was running, only that he had to put enough distance between himself and Discord. Once he was far enough away, he dropped to his knees in exhaustion, curled up into a ball and wept.
Past the yellow and purple checkered skies and beyond the land of floating, spinning houses and flying blue frogs there sat an ominous castle sitting atop a mountain. Everypony knew that it was tantamount to suicide to even look in its direction, lest that they wish to incur the wrath of their lord and master. Piranha-headed beasts with the bodies of bears and the pincers of crabs guarded the castle's entrances and exits, the "pirbearcrabs" gnashing their teeth and snapping their claws at even the most innocuous of disturbances, from delivery ponies to butterflies. The few ponies that were allowed access to the Chaos Master's domain spoke of gravity-defying staircases and passageways that lead, hopefully, to nowhere, or worse, to realms of unspeakable horrors. There were many that were never heard from again and perhaps it was for the best. All of Equestria-or "Discordtopia"-already feared the draconequus enough as it is.
Discord, the Master of Mayhem, lounged in a Tilt-A-Whirl throne atop a staircase sandwiched between piles of baby pony dolls. Garbed in a purple pinstripe suit, he glumly rested his chin upon his lion's paw, his bird talons wrapped tightly around an upside down glass of chocolate milk. Below him, a pink earth pony mare was bouncing on top of a giant rubber ball, a jester's hat clamped down on her head. Normally, Pinkie Pie was a bundle of unbridled joy but the heavy collar and chain leash, coupled with her drooping gray mane and downcast eyes were heavy indicators of her depressed state. Despite this, she bent over backwards (sometimes literally) to please her master, juggling, leaping and cartwheeling around the throne room, sometimes for hours on end.
"Stop! Just...stop."
Pinkie Pie stopped in midair, allowing the ball to roll out from underneath her before she collided face-first with the black licorice floor. Discord shook his head. He'd still have yet to figure out how she managed to defy physics like that and it bothered him to no end. It could be some sort of rudimentary chaos magic that the earth pony had somehow gained access to. Perhaps that was why he felt the need to make her his personal slave. He HATED the idea of someone else having chaos magic. That was his power and his alone! This clown would be exactly that: a clown. His clown.
The crowd of Discord-clones all gasped and chattered amongst themselves but Discord simply ignored them. Pinkie Pie picked herself off of the floor and rubbed at her chafing flesh beneath the collar. "Master? Why did you make me stop?"
"Because you fail to amuse me, you idiot!"
Pinkie Pie flinched from his tone. "B-b-but I do everything you like! I contort my body into all kinds of shapes, I smashed watermelons with a hammer, I tell stand-up and knock-knock jokes. What am I doing wrong?"
The glass in his paw shattering, sending chocolate milk dripping down his curled fingers. Discord rose from his throne, his chest heaving with anger as fire literally burned in his eyes. "You're being mopey! You're supposed to be this super party-pony and annoying ball of sunshine but you can't even manage a polite smile for me! Me, your master!" The staircase steps cracked with each step until he towered over the whimpering mare. "You should be grateful! I was going to banish you to the Puppet Dimension but instead, I gave you honor of being my personal entertainer. But you can't even do that right!"
Tears poured down Pinkie Pie's cheeks. "P-please, I'm sorry..."
"'Sorry' isn't going to butter the parsnip!"
"Wh-what?"
SNAP! Where Pinkie Pie once stood, there was instead a floating pink marble, which zoomed into Discord's waiting paw. "Ahhh, much better!" Discord smirked, peering into the marble, watching with glee at the tiny mare pounding at her glass prison. "Oh Pinkie...this isn't the time to lose your marbles at this moment! HA HA HA HA HE HE!" With another snap of his fingers, Discord summoned a bag of marbles and plopped it inside, catching the glares from the other mares trapped inside their respective marbles. He sighed, "Everypony's a critic."
After dismissing his "court", Discord teleported himself to the highest room in the tallest tower and sighed as he threw himself into his chaise lounge on the ceiling. He had to face facts: despite being the closest thing to a god as well as the devilishly-handsome ruler of his own little slice of disharmonic paradise, he was hopelessly and irrefutably boreeeeed. You would think creating endless chaos and subjugating wimpy little ponies to terror for an entire year would alleviate the tedium. And it did...but only for so long.
His eyes literally rolled in their sockets before tumbling to the floor and rolling over to sit in front of a wall-mounted mirror, which was bordered by a wooden, tribal mask-shaped frame. The eyeballs blinked before a gray face formed around them. The magic mirror? Hmm, I guess I could check up on the rest of my kingdom. Reattaching his head to his neck, Discord waved his mismatched hands in front of the mirror, feeling the power humming inside of it.
"Mirror, mirror in my room, who is the undisputed master of chaotic doom?"
The glass vibrated, creating a water-like ripple effect as a zebra head appeared, blinking her eyes before narrowing them at the draconequus. She sighed, "With the same response that I've come to rue, that undisputed master is always you."
"Ha! I knew it!"
Zecora rolled her eyes. "I do not see the point of this quiz when you are the only chaos bringer there is."
"Don't roll your eyes at me, Missy! You're lucky that you're just trapped in a mirror!"
"Oh yes, how fortunate am I? To be in a state where I wished that I had died!"
Discord pounded both hands on either side of the mirror so that he could meet Zecora's gaze. When the meddlesome zebra came to Discord to beg for the lives of Ponyville's foals, he decided on a whim to take her instead, having found her rhyming mildly amusing. After the novelty wore off, he turned her into a magic mirror so that he could spy on his subjects without having to ever leave his lair. Although he'd never admit to it, Discord liked having Zecora to talk to, even with her back-biting sass. As charming as I am, it was about time I had someone else to talk to besides myself.
"You could have it so much worse! I could smash you into a million pieces!"
Zecora's gaze never wavered. "You could do this, you could do that. Then who else would you bother for a chat?"
This gave Discord pause. "I don't need you to talk to. I'm not lonely."
"Mmm-hmm. For one who depends on lies, it is funny that you are unable to see through your own disguise."
"And I thought I was the one that wasn't supposed to make sense," Discord grumbled.
"Be that as it may, what makes you so ornery today?"
Discord withdrew himself from the mirror and stood with his arms behind his back, tail swishing back and forth like that of an agitated cat. "I'm bored! I thought that having my own chaotic world to rule over would be amusing but it's...it's....dull!" He admitted with a gag at the end. "I remember when I took down the Elements of Harmony as well as the princesses and the Pillars of Harmony. Now that was fun! The thrill of combat, the pleasure of seeing my enemies squirm before I destroyed them! I felt so ALIVE!"
He sighed and literally sank into a recliner made of cottage cheese. "I have no enemies left to conquer. Oh sure, there's the occasional wannabe resistance fighter but that's not a challenge!" A lightbulb dinged above Discord's head. "Wait a minute...that's it!" Dashing over to the mirror, he grinned, "Magic mirror full of insight, show me a worthy foe to fight!"
Zecora frowned but did as she was told. In place of the zebra's face, the glass depicted a lone figure traveling past the Cliffs of Insanity, his green eyes ablaze with a clear purpose. "Just as we speak, I have found the enemy that you seek. He is already making his move to strike; for your new foe is the dragon Spike."
"Wait, what?" Discord leaned forward. "Ah yes, the young drake. I honestly forgot about him. Are you sure he's a worthy challenge for the likes of moi?"
"Although you are not one to feel fear, be warned that not all is as it appears," Zecora replied almost smugly. "Spike is young, this is true but he is more than a match for the likes of you. With an iron will and a stout heart, he shall prove to be quite difficult to take apart."
Discord crossed his arms indignantly. "Pfft! So the kid has a little courage? Big deal!"
"More than courage he has in stock. If you knew what I know, you wouldn't be so quick to mock."
"And what, pray tell, does this 'great hero' have that's so dangerous?"
Zecora's grin grew wider. "Sit still and listen closely to me and I shall tell you of Spike's weapons three. The first was created by your own mistake for nothing is more destructive than heartache. I think that it is universally agreed, that vengeance is a dangerous force indeed. The second burns hotter than hatred or fire, it nourishes the soul and leaves the bearer inspired. It is far reaching beyond your scope, for this weapon's name is simply 'Hope.'"
"And the third?" Whether he liked it or not, Discord was now intrigued.
"To defeat your evil, he possesses the key. A powerful relic known as the Staff of Harmony."
Discord's eyes widened. "'Staff of Harmony,' you say?" Then to himself: "The light show...that weird stick he was carrying. He must've somehow gained the powers of the Elements themselves!" If Spike truly had the only weapon in existence that could stop him, then that meant he could no longer sit idly by while that overgrown salamander walked free.
"Very well then, Zecora. Let's see if your...champion stands a chance against the Lord of Chaos!" Discord declared mockingly, rubbing his hands together as he plotted out his next scheme.
He stands more than just a mere chance. Zecora thought deridingly. It is towards your doom he makes his advance!
Spike wiped his brow and trudged forward, his bag becoming heavy on his back. He stopped, taking in the sights and sounds of the amazingly untouched main road. It was a simple dirt path on a winding hill of green grass, a breath of fresh air considering the insanity of the rest of Discordtopia. He’d hiked past the Cliffs of Insanity, where he could’ve sworn he saw two figures engaged in a swordfight at the peak, and followed the path the old stallion had directed him on. So far, his journey had been pretty uneventful.
And then the music started playing.
“Star Swirl? Are you hearing that music too?”
“You mean the showtune? Yes, I am.”
Drawing his sword, Spike held the blade out in front of him as a series of checkered purple and orange walls and ceilings were erected all around him, closing him off from the outside world. He spun to find that his way out had been blocked off, leaving him alone in the tunnel. What in Celestia is this? A crackling sound blared on his left and he pivoted to find himself facing a staticky TV. The image then changed into the face of someone that Spike had been dreading to see for the past year, someone whose very image haunted his nightmares.
“Hellooooo Spike!” Discord grinned on the television. “Did you miss me?”
“Discord,” Spike growled. “What do you want?”
The draconequus gasped and raised his lion’s paw to his chest. “Can’t a fellow simply converse with an old friend without wanting something?”
“We’re not friends, you piece of slime! I’ll ask again: what...do...you...want?”
Discord dropped the melodrama. “So blunt. Oh fine, very well then. You see, Spikey, I’ve been so, well, bored, that I’ve been going mad!” He then tapped his chin with an eagle’s talon. “Okay, mad-der. So I decided to pay you a visit! You should be flattered! It’s not everyday the king stops to have a chat with one of his subjects!”
“You’re no king of mine, Discord,” Spike hissed venomously. “Just get to the point.”
“Indeed, thou wyrm of deceit,” Star Swirl agreed.
Discord shot the skull a warning glare before turning his attention to Spike. “Hmph. It’s simple really: I’m going to present you a series of challenges and all you have to do is…” He leaned forward as if to reveal a big secret. “...Survive. Isn’t that grand?!”
Spike lowered his sword. “Yeah...that’s not going to happen.” He strode past the TV, only to find, to his annoyance, another one, this time on the opposite wall.
“Are you sure? You know it might be f-uuuu-uuun!” TV Discord said sing-songingly.
The TV burst in a shower of glass and smoke. Spike withdrew his sword and sheathed it, having enough of this nonsense. “There’s nothing ever good on,” he muttered.
All along the hallway, a hundred more TVs were switched on, all of them of various sizes and featuring Discord’s glowering visage.
“You know, that was awfully rude. Some knight you are. Oops, I mean, 'childe,'” Discord added derisively, his fingers curling into air quotes.
“This is intolerable!” Star Swirl exclaimed, and Spike had to agree with him.
“Enough of your games, Discord!”
The hallway was then filled with laughter as a hundred Discords cackled madly, some holding their guts while others slapped their knees or banged obnoxiously on the screens. “Oh trust me, kiddo,” their voices stated ominously, “The game has only just begun.”
With a snap of his fingers, a giant rubber band ball thudded onto the floor behind Spike and began to roll towards him. The drake needed no prompting; he dashed forward, his legs twin pistons as the ball picked up speed. The TV Discords snickered mockingly, their laughter following Spike while he sprinted down the hallway, which now appeared to be a never ending corridor of checkered walls and chortling Discord faces. His chest heaved, his lungs begging for air but Spike refused to rest. I will rest when this madness is behind me.
The rumbling behind Spike let him know that the ball was catching up to him; he refused to look behind him to prevent fear from slowing him down. Once he looked behind him, it was game over and he’d come too far to give up.
“Don’t stop, Spike! We’re almost there!”
Star Swirl was right! The end of the hallway was mercifully right before them! Channeling all his energy, Spike pushed himself to his limit, tearing down the hallway like a dragon possessed, beads of sweat drizzling down his brow. He ignored the sweat clinging to his eyelids and seeping into his nostrils; his desire for freedom and the sight of the wooden door overriding his feelings of discomfort and exhaustion. Almost...there…!
A scream escaped Spike’s maw as a trap door open up underneath him, sending him tumbling headfirst down a small chute and landed on top of something very soft. He shook his head and rubbed at his forehead, heavy breaths fighting to refill his lungs with oxygen. Rolling off of the pile, he realized that it was a collection of Discord plushies, each one with a different facial expression or little outfit. He picked up the nearest one-a Discord in a propeller beanie and a giant lollipop, his tongue stuck out of a toothy grin-and ripped its head off, tossing the two pieces across the room. Spike dusted himself off and leaned backward to crack his back, a satisfying pop echoing in his ears.
“Well, that was certainly an experience,” Star Swirl grumbled, sounding very dizzy and very agitated.
Spike cradled the skull in his hands, peering down into its eye sockets. “I just don’t get it. Why would Discord try to kill me and then turn around and save me? It just doesn’t make any sense.”
He somehow got the impression that Star Swirl was giving him an eyebrow-raised expression. “Have you forgotten who we’re dealing with? Nothing that creature does makes any sort of logical sense." He paused and Spike took as a sign to stroke the skull's once gloriously-maintained beard, now only a few matted strands hanging from his bottom jaw. It was something that the unicorn once did while in deep thought and was obviously unable to perform. "Thank you. He said that he was bored. Evidently, Discord is toying with us or, more specifically, you. ”
“Lucky me,” Spike muttered. “So what do I do?”
“Play his game. If you keep Discord entertained, it will not only give him a reason not to dispose of you but can also buy us enough time to come up with a plan.”
As much as Spike wanted to deny it, Star Swirl's advice was pretty sound, mostly because he himself couldn’t think of anything better. Discord was tricky, backstabbing and above all, unpredictable. His mood shifted like the seasons so there was no telling when he’d tire of his new plaything nor what he’d do to Spike when that come would inevitably come. But thankfully, Discord had a glaring flaw: he was extremely vain, thinking himself akin to a god and went to great lengths to convince himself and others of this fact. If I could somehow exploit this weakness, then I’d have that chimeric bastard right where I want him and end this nightmare.
“Alright, I’ll be Discord’s new toy. For now.”
A scratching sound drew Spike’s attention to a nearby wall, where a white chalk drawing began to slowly sketch itself out on the stone surface. It eventually created a door, which then swung forward, revealing a small foyer leading to a set of metal doors, a bright red neon sign above it proudly declaring, “ENTER HERE!”
“It’s a trap,” Spike whispered, allowing Star Swirl to swing from his hip as a hand flew to his sword.
“Undoubtedly,” Star Swirl uttered. “But spring it we must.”
Cautiously entering the foyer, Spike slowly grabbed ahold of the metal push bar on one of the doors, a cold chill running down his spine. What was waiting for him on the other side? Ravenous manticores? A starving hydra? Samurai pizza cats? He shook free the worries that’d been lodged in his head and with a deep breath, shoved the door open and stepped through it.
What Spike hadn’t expected was to walk into a large TV studio auditorium filled with dozens of Discord-clones, from the whooping duplicates in the seats to the bored-looking camera men filming the event. The overhead lights flashed in his eyes, partially blinding him as he strode to the center, his sword drawn and ready to spill blood. He stood in front of a tacky game show set, complete with an electronic scoreboard and several multi-colored bulbs. “What the…-?”
Just then, Discord’s voice rang out, only in an exaggerated, overly enthusiastic voice: “Ladies and gentlecolts, it’s time once again for everypony’s favorite game show...”
“SLIME TIME!” The audience cheered and another Discord poofed alongside Spike, wearing a black toupee and a blue tweed suit, waving to the audience and throwing a couple of winks and kisses.
“Hello everypony! Welcome to Slime Time!” Host Discord grinned, speaking into a tiny microphone. “Now, let’s meet our contestant. Spike is a twenty-year-old dragon that works as a page-whoops!-I mean, ‘childe’ and enjoys long walks, talking to skulls and getting shot down by a certain unicorn fashionista.”
Spike’s patience bar was officially at zero. “So what am I doing here?”
Ignoring the snippy tone, Host Discord smiled, “Well Spike, the aim of the show is to survive three minutes-that’s three minutes-submerged in slime.” A curvaceous female Discord in a shimmering gold dress gestured towards a glass tank and pursed her lips at Host Discord, who made biting motions at her. “Ahem, where was I? Ah yes. Survive that and you could take home the fabulous prize of living! Nothing beats that, am I right?” The audience applauded and whistled in agreement.
Leaning forward, Host Discord's face suddenly took on a malicious predatory savageness. "And if you lose...you die."
Spike gulped. He wasn’t much of a swimmer and the last time he had checked, he could only hold his breath to about two minutes. Still, he was on a sacred quest and wouldn’t let anyone intimidate him, especially the Lord of Chaos. Well, there's no way out of this, is there?
Adopting an air of false bravado, Spike puffed out his chest and grinned, "I accept."
The Discord audience erupted in thunderous applause, with whistles and even a few “You’re Number 1 Spike!” signs being waved around. There was a flash of light and Spike found himself stripped down to a pair of blue swimming trunks covered with hundreds of tiny Rarity heads, each one winking or making kissy faces. He glared at Host Discord and instinctively reached for his sword before remembering that it was no longer at his side. One of these days, Discord, one of these days…
The draconequus held up Star Swirl’s skull and peered into its eye sockets. “Hello again, old friend. Did you lose weight? Get a beard trim?”
“You know damn well what happened to me, you unscrupulous rogue!” The skull barked. “Just be thankful that I no longer have any hooves to kick your scrawny-...”
SNAP!
A steel box covered in chains materialized around the skull, leaving it hollering muffled curses at the bemused chaos-bringer. “Ooh! What a mouth on that one!” He then tossed the box behind his shoulder, allowing it to sail through the air and pass through a floating basketball net. “Anywho, back to the show! Spike the dragon, are you ready for…?”
“SLIME TIME!”
Ignoring the screaming crowd, Spike stared Host Discord in the eyes and nodded, loudly cracking his knuckles. “Ready when you are, Discord.”
“Great! Then here...we...go!”
Before he could blink, Spike was poofed into the glass tank while the electronic scoreboard’s timer flashed three zeroes. A viscous pink fluid became to bubble up at his feet, quickly devouring his toes and making its way up to his ankles. He took control of his breathing, trying to remain as calm as possible while Host Discord tickled underneath Female Discord’s chin, earning him a giggle from the curvy doppelganger. “Start the countdown and let’s get...to...sliming!”
The dragon’s waist disappeared, his eyes snapping shut as he took steady breaths, his mind focusing on staying serene and not losing his cool. As Shining Armor once told him, “Fear and panic are the enemies of the mind. Let them in and you invite them to dinner.” Spike could feel his scaly skin tickle as the slime swallowed up his midsection, ascending up to his chest and beneath his armpits. I bet Shining Armor never had to train for this!
Host Discord’s gaze never left Spike’s, his mouth twisted into a sadistic rictus, his mismatched form literally shaking with excitement. Spike glared at him, his focus now set on how much he despised the draconequus, the claws on his right hand reflexively curling up to grasp at an invisible sword. Oh, how he wished to shove a blade in between Discord’s eyes! The slime engulfed Spike’s head, forcing him to swallow in as much air as he possibly could and held it. Celestia give me strength!
“Ladiiiiiies and gentlemeeeeen! It...is...SLIME TIME!”
And with that, the electronic clock mercifully began its countdown, every member of the cloned audience chanting out the red neon numbers with way too much vigor for such a barbaric game. Then again, they were conjurations of the Lord of Chaos, so it should've have come as such a shock.
"2:59...2:58...2:57..."
Alright, so far so good, Spike. Just got to hang in there!
He was careful to ensure that little breaths flowed through his nostrils, his chest expanding and contracting in little bursts. It was a trick Rainbow Dash taught him one summer while swimming after a little breath-holding test. Even the slime wasn’t that bad; it just took some getting used to. All in all, Spike was feeling a little at ease.
"2:33...2:32...2:31..."
Female Discord stared bored down at her nails while Host Discord was trying to keep a vicious smile on his face, the edges flickering ever so slightly. Spike couldn’t help but throw him a cocky little grin. It did wonders for the drake’s moral to see his tormentor slowly losing his cool, witnessing the draconequus not getting any satisfaction in his sick game. In fact, it warmed Spike’s chest to see Discord so downtrodden. Wait a minute...
Something tickled in the back of Spike’s throat. His eyes bulged, his lungs begging-no, screaming for air. Outside the tank, the audience continued their chanting, their voices like a symphony of doom as they counted down with the clock. Host Discord's smile returned with a vengeance at the realization of Spike's predicament. Gleeful red and yellow eyes watched the dragon struggling to hold his breath and loving every moment.
"2:12...2:11...2:10..."
His legs began frantically kicking at the gelatinous slime, every motion was like paddling through quicksand.
"2:02...2:01...2:00…"
By then, the panic had fully set in and the only thing on Spike’s mind was escaping the confines of his glass prison. Spike swiped at the glass, his claws raking against its surface without so much as a single scratch.
"1:55...1:54...1:53..."
Think, Spike, think! What would Rainbow Dash do?! It became harder and harder for him to concentrate as the desire to open his mouth became more tempting by the minute.
"1:41...1:40...1:39…"
I’m not going to drown, I’m not going to drown!
"1:22...1:21...1:20..."
Can’t they stop that damn chanting?!
Host Discord’s face nearly split from his devious grin, the edges of his lips curling in on themselves like burning paper. Conjuring up an armchair, he settled down with a bucket of popcorn, his eyes never leaving Spike's. Seeing the dragon's evident distress, Host Discord started taking long, deep breaths, every gulp of air serving as a deliberate slap in the face for his poor "contestant." This earned the mischief-maker a few laughs from the duplicated audience.
"1:14...1:13...1:12..."
The auditorium was spinning, Spike’s eyes flickered as he struggled to remain awake, his cheeks puffed out in an attempt to conserve the last of his oxygen. The sounds emanating from outside of the tank no longer registered to Spike; it was if the world didn’t exist anymore. There was just him and the slime. He clenched his fists, the claws digging hard enough into his scaly hands to induce bleeding. He clamped his jaws to keep a tight seal on his last reserves of air.
"55...54...53...52…"
Spike’s mind wandered, drifting back to a simpler time, before madcap spirits of disharmony and love-devouring changelings. He thought of Rarity, about how much he missed her and longed to be in her embrace. It was painfully obvious that he had feelings towards the fashionista and Applejack and Rainbow Dash usually teased him about it but he didn’t care. He recalled helping Rarity out at her boutique, either setting up her window displays or carrying boxes too heavy for her delicate magic to move. Sometimes, he even let her use him like a pincushion or to model outfits for her. Anything for his Rarity.
Most stallions looked at the Element of Generosity and only saw a pretty mare to buck. They didn’t appreciate her creativity or her laugh, which sounded like a silver bell. And her eyes...oh, how he longed to stare once more into her sapphire-blue eyes. He’d give anything to see her beautiful face one more time. Well, I may get that chance real soon.
"30...29...28...27..."
His ear twitched, snapping him wide awake. He saw a silver-white glow pulsating from the steel box on the stage floor. What is Star Swirl…-? His answer came in the form of an odd tingling sensation in his chest that spread throughout his lungs, filling them once more with air. Why you sneaky bastard!
His strength renewed, Spike met Host Discord’s wide-eyed gaze and a smile oozing with mockery adorned Spike’s face. You’re in trouble now, Dipcord!
"12...11...10...9...8..."
The chanting, which at one time had been a source of frustrating ominousness, now served as an almost melodic score heralding in Spike’s victory.
"7...6...5...4..."
The two locked eyes and Host Discord hung his head in defeat.
"3...2...1!"
BUZZZZZZT!
The tank's door was yanked open by invisible hands, spilling gallons of slime onto the stage along with a moist and very sticky dragon. Tumbling across the floor, Spike came to rest on his side, hacking and clearing his irritated lungs. Now freed of his claustrophobic surroundings, he was quick to suck in as much precious air as mortally possible. Never before had the simple act of drawing in breaths felt so heavenly. He slowly sat up and then made an effort to rise to his feet, his head still dizzy from his recent ordeal in the tank.
“Well Spike the dragon, it looks as though you’ve won Slime Time!” Host Discord cheered, his bubbly demeanor a stark contrast to the murderous gaze in his eyes. He snapped his fingers and Spike found himself fully clothed with all of his possessions returned. He felt the Staff of Harmony beneath its cloth covering and took a quick peek just to ensure that it was there. Everything was as it should be. Except for...
"Discord..."
"Yes, Spike?"
"Why...am...I...pink?"
It was true, Spike’s normally purple and green skin was now a garish hot pink color.
The draconequus gave Spike a toothy, devilish smile. “Didn’t I mention that the slime acts as a temporary skin dye?”
In a flash, Spike drew his sword and severed Host Discord's head, sending it flying through the air and in the hands of an overly zealous Discord audience member, who hollered and raised it into the air like a prized baseball. With little sparkly flashes, the Discords slowly popped out of existence, leaving only a lone Discord seated in the back row of the seats. Calmly, he stood up and began to slow-clap, his fuzzy purple and white-furred cape dragging behind him, a golden crown resting upon his head.
“Marvelous! Now that’s what I call ‘cutting-edge entertainment’!”
Spike was stunned. "But you...he...-"
"Come now, Spike, did you really think that I'd leave myself so open for an attack? I know that's a magic sword in your grasp and while it can hurt me, it’s not enough to kill me. Still, I appreciate the thought you’ve put into this."
The tip of the sword whipped upward to point at Discord’s face. "So...I'm guessing you're not in a talking mood?"
“You’re going to suffer for everything you’ve done,” Spike growled.
“Maybe...but not yet.”
SNAP!
The next thing he knew, Spike was right back where he was, standing on the dirt pathway with the Cliffs of insanity behind him.
“Oh, and don’t worry, that dye will come off in a couple of days,” Discord’s disembodied voice promised mirthfully. “Toodle-oo for now, Spikey!” With a cackle, he was gone, leaving Spike alone once more.
"Thank Celestia we're out of that mess," Star Swirl murmured from Spike's hip.
Spike peered towards the horizon. "Yeah...for now."
Trudging down the seemingly never ending dirt road, Spike kept a tight hold of the wrapped staff clenched in his right hand. Despite his best efforts, he had yet to figure out how to get the staff to work for him, failing to elicit even a single iota of magical energy from the object. He could feel the magic radiating off of the staff but had no means of activating it. Was it because he wasn’t one of its designated Element bearers? The Elements of Harmony did select those it deemed worthy to use their power, after all.
“Hey Star Swirl?”
The skull made no response.
“Star Swirl?” Spike was starting to panic. He crouched down and, setting the staff down, brought the skull up to his face. “Star Swirl? Star Swirl?!”
“I...I’m-I’m h-here, Spike.”
Spike let out a sigh of relief. “Are you alright?”
The skull’s nonexistent eyes meet his own. “Just a little tired. No need to fret.”
Since his grisly demise at the hands of Discord, Star Swirl was reanimated but as a walking skeleton and after a few mishaps, was reduced to just a skull. The magic keeping him on the mortal plane was finite, meaning that the once-renowned conjurer couldn’t cast spells like he used to. The pair learned this when Star Swirl erected a wall of fire to protect them from a rampaging owl-bear and remained inactive for the following half hour. Necromancy was an old but forbidden form of magic, one that dealt with summoning spirits or raising the dead as ghouls or revenants. Some practitioners could even bring themselves back to life, provided that the rites were performed properly.
“You saved my life back there. Thank you.”
Star Swirl nodded slightly. “Of course. What are friends for?”
They left it at that, instead resuming their journey in silence. As insane as it was, having a talking skull was better than no companionship at all and Spike was able to look past the morbid side of it to appreciate Star Swirl’s company. After all, he didn’t have many friends left. Discord had to seen to that, which was another reason why he had to answer for his crimes. And I’m going to be the one to take that bastard down.
Flying eyeballs. An orange dog-cat hybrid on a bicycle. A caterpillar smoking a hookah, smoke-shaped letters drifting through the air as he drone-sang. The thing about living in a bizarre, logic-defying world is that after a while, you get used to the abnormal and think about it less and less. It becomes as natural as breathing and loses its impact. Discord might as well step up his game if he wants to shock anypony anymore.
“Well, here we are.”
Ponyville. What had once been a cozy little hamlet was now a collection of ramshackle huts surrounded by a wall of sharpened wooden pikes. The outer wall of the town was drowning in a perpetual layer of thick fog, giving it the appearance of being a cluster of teeth. Spike's heart ached at the state of his former home but he then steeled himself, remembering his training: never dwell on your feelings of anger or grief. Such feelings can get a lesser stallion killed but a true knight can rise above such distractions.
Just then, several ponies popped up at the top of the wall, their crossbows and spears aimed directly at the stoic dragon. There was thudding sound like hooves ascending a flight of stairs and a pale-amber earth pony mare appeared, her two-toned mane held back in a tight bun. "Who goes there?!" She yelled in a commanding tone.
Spike couldn't help but to crack a smile. "What's the matter, Mayor Mare? It's been so long that you don't recognize Twilight Sparkle's former number one assistant?"
"Spike? Sweet Celestia, it is you!" Mayor Mare smiled warmly and then turned to bark at an unseen pony. "Well don't just stand there! Let him through!"
Large twin wooden doors slowly creaked open and Spike entered without a second thought, where he was yanked forward and pulled into a death grip of a hug. "Ugh, it's good to see you too, Ms. Mayor! Can I breathe now?"
The mare blushed and sheepishly released him. By then, a small crowd had gathered around the two and Mayor Mare placed a foreleg around Spike's shoulders. "Everypony, Spike the dragon has returned!" The crowd cheered and like a tidal wave, swarmed Spike, giving him pats on the back or asking him about his travels. It was nice to be home once more.
As Mayor Mare led him through town, the nostalgic feeling of coming home hit Spike like a hammer to the chest. He could make out familiar houses and landmarks, though they were now warped from their original forms. The clocktower was made of graham crackers with a roof of chocolate bars while town hall was upside down and sagging to the left, slowly sinking into the earth beneath it and breaking apart due to its displaced weight. Many of the cottages were either boarded up or covered in zany patterns such as polka dots or stripes. In short, the town had seen much, much better days.
Spike abruptly stopped in mid-stride, the claws of his exposed toes digging into the ground. Where Golden Oaks Library once stood was instead replaced by a gnarled, burnt tree stump, an ugly, hole-filled charred piece of wood that stood like a rotten tooth. The tree stump became clearer as Spike approached it as though he were sleepwalking. He ran a hand down its side, his nails scraping off splinters. Rage, heartache, shock and grief swarmed around in the dragon's head.
"Discord burnt it down when he arrived," Mayor Mare stated, her voice shaky with pain. "He said that it was a monument to the Element of Magic and had no place in his new kingdom."
Tears gathered in Spike's eyes. This...this isn't right. Ponyville, and by extension, the library, wasn't his first home but the most important moments of his life occurred there. It was in Ponyville that he'd made some real friends, where he fell in love for the first time, and celebrated his first birthday. The library held so many wonderful memories that its charred corpse filled him with an indescribable fury. It was like losing a family member, one he'd never gotten the chance to see before their untimely demise.
"Spike?"
He turned his head to glance over at Mayor Mare. "Is Sugarcube Corner still standing?"
Mayor Mare nodded. "Yes...the Cakes still live there too. Are you alright?"
Brushing off his hand, Spike rose and replied in a low growl, "No, I'm angry." The stunned mare stayed rooted in place though Spike didn't notice. The dragon's dark demeanor cleared the way for him as he made his way towards the establishment, the ponies willingly avoiding conversation with him. For this, Spike was grateful. Even the most uneducated knew to never get in the way of a pissed off dragon.
Tink-la-tink-la-tink! The tiny bell rang as Spike shut the door behind him. A blue mare with a swirly pink mane scurried over to him and smiled, "Welcome traveler to Sugarcube Corner! I'm sure that we can accommodate..." She froze and leaned forward to inspect the newcomer. "S-spike? Is that you?"
He set his things aside and placed both hands on the mare's shoulders. "Yes it is, Mrs. Cake. It's nice to see you."
Unlike Mayor Mare, Mrs. Cake's hug was eager but loose, giving Spike room to breath but still showing that she missed him. "It's been too long, Spike. Far too long." She lifted her head up to gaze at him tearfully. "When...when we'd first gotten the news about Canterlot, we'd feared that you'd been killed. Nopony could tell us anything. Where have you been this whole time?"
Guilt wormed its way into Spike's heart. "I ran. Twilight and the other Element bearers held Discord off so that I could escape. I eventually found my way to the Crystal Empire where Princess Cadence and Shining Armor offered me sanctuary. I've spent the last year training as a knight with Shining Armor. I was hiding and so the fewer that knew of my existence the better. Please forgive me."
Mrs. Cake sniffled and ran a hoof through his head spikes. "Oh Spike, there's nothing to forgive. I understand."
A yellow stallion exited the kitchen, his forelegs buckling slightly at the weight of a kettle that they were supporting. "Hey Cup, who're you talking...." He took notice of the dragon and the kettle clattered to the floor. "...To?"
Spike raised an awkward hand. "Hi Mr. Cake. Long time no see, eh?"
The stallion stumbled forward slightly and stopped a foot away. "Spike...you...you're alive."
"Isn't it amazing, Carrot?" Mrs. Cake beamed. "You see? There is still hope in the world."
Mr. Cake placed a hoof on Spike's shoulder and nodded, "There sure is."
The touching moment was interrupted by a warbling growl. Spike nervously grinned.
Mrs. Cake shook her head. "We should get some food into Spike before his stomach devours us all."
Laughter rang out from within Sugarcube Corner, a sound that had been sorely missed in those parts, particularly since the disappearance of Ponyville’s resident party-planner. As Spike guzzled down his fish and vegetable broth, which was the best he’d had in a long time, he entertained the Cakes with stories of his time both in the Crystal Empire and on the road, purposefully leaving out his recent skirmish with Discord as he didn’t want the pair to worry. Besides, this was meant as a moment of levity, for old friends to reconnect and escape their worries for at least a little while. It’d been too long since Spike relaxed and allowed his mind to focus on thoughts other than knightly training or raining furious vengeance upon the Chaos King. Celestia, I need a hobby!
“So Spike,” Mrs. Cake began, “How did you and Star Swirl here meet?” She gestured towards the skull sitting atop a wooden stool. After a brief hiatus, Star Swirl had awaken, scaring the ever-loving daylights out of the shopkeepers and Spike managed to convince them that it wasn’t a threat and had, in fact, saved his life twice.
“Well it’s an embarrassing tale,” Star Swirl murmured. “Could we get another question?”
Spike snorted and licked his spoon. “Ah, come on! It wasn’t that bad!”
“Fine, fine, go ahead. Laugh at the bodily disabled.”
Drama queen. Spike thought with an eye roll as he wiped his hands. Pausing for dramatic effect, he began: “I had just made my way out of the Frozen North and was nearing Neighagra Falls when I came across a pack of…-”
“Spike…” Star Swirl interjected worriedly.
“...stray diamond dogs that were in the process of…-”
“I’m warning you…”
“...fighting over who gets first dibs…-”
“Don’t you dare…”
“...to stick their wick in his eye socket,” Spike finished with a sadistic grin. The room became deathly quiet. After all, what could be said after such a disturbing revelation? The silence was broken by a burst of air followed by a snicker-snort. They all turned to discover the source, which turned out to be Mrs. Cake herself.
“You-you mean to say that…?” She struggled between her insane cackling. “Diamond dogs wanted to...s-skull-buck you? Ha ha ha!” She banged the tabletop with one hoof, gasping out guffaws that tinted her cheeks a tomato-red. Mr. Cake looked between Spike, Mrs. Cake and Star Swirl and then wrapped a foreleg around his wife, joining in on her uproarious laughter.
“Oh yes, ha ha ha,” Star Swirl muttered dryly. “Very funny. It’s so amusing, isn’t it?”
Spike chuckled and crossed his arms. “Come on, if you can’t laugh at yourself, who can you laugh at?”
“Somepony that has it worse than me?”
After the laughter finally died down, the Cakes filled Spike in concerning the events that had since occurred in Ponyville following his absence. As it turns out, it was the second place attacked by Discord following his assault on Canterlot, as the town served as the former residence and base of operations of the Element bearers. Tourists no longer wanted anything to do with the town and merchants stopped trading altogether, fearing the wrath of the draconequus if they offered any kind of aid. As Equestria descended into madness, packs of roving thieves and brigands became more and more commonplace, leading to the construction of a protective wall and Mayor Mare organizing a volunteer militia. Ponyville, once a sunny little (for the most part) carefree town, was now a fortified settlement held captive by fear and uncertainty.
“Wow, now I see why Mayor Mare and everypony else look so...grim.”
Mr. Cake nodded gravely, “It’s a necessity that we’re constantly be on guard. When Discord’s magic changed the land, it caused the Everfree Forest to go wild, sending the creatures that live in its depths in our direction.”
“There was a timberwolf attack yesterday,” Mrs. Cake added, taking her husband’s hoof. “Two days before that, we had to fend off a rogue chimera. Time Turner was able to build a static discharge weapon but it doesn’t do much against timberwolves. He spends all day in that lab of his concocting new ways of keeping us safe. His wife and children barely see him anymore.”
"What about Sweet Apple Acres?"
"Since Applejack's disappearance, they've had to take on hired help and work harder than ever to keep us fed since nopony else will help us," Mr. Cake explained with just a hint of bitterness. "Granny Smith had to retire due to health concerns so Big Mac is pretty much running the farm."
Mrs. Cake stood up and clapped her hooves. "Well, I think that's enough of that for now. We've been yammering your ears off for hours and I'm sure you'd like to rest for the night. You can have Pinkie Pie's; after all, she's not here to use it." Spike couldn't help but notice the slight droop in her smile and voice crack when she said the mare's name. Clearly she was still upset by her friend's absence.
After saying good evening to the couple, Spike trudged up the steps and set his things down, stopping to pop his back. His eyes sorrowfully scanning the bedroom, observing how the pristine condition it was being kept in, almost as if Pinkie had never left. Mrs. Cake probably cleans up in here. She was like a daughter to the two and I'm sure they're broken up about her. He sat on the edge of the bed and placed Star Swirl beside him.
"I've never met any of your friends but from what you've told me, they must've been real special."
Spike nodded and a light smile touched his lips. “You have no idea. I remember the first time Twi and I came to Ponyville. Pinkie Pie went out of her way to throw us a party, even though she barely knew us. Fluttershy was so timid but sweet and Rainbow Dash was stoked to have new friends to pal around with. And then were was Rarity…”
His smile dropped. Memories of better days flashed inside his mind, every moment he’d spent with the white unicorn flowing like a leaky faucet. He remembering their gem-hunting expeditions, helping her in the boutique and just walking around town, enjoying each other’s company. What had started out as an innocent crush blossomed into so much more. There were many times in which he wanted to confess his feelings but never worked up the courage to follow through with it. Now I’ll probably never get the chance.
Star Swirl remained quiet and Spike was grateful for that. Despite how close friends the two had become, there were just some things that he didn't talk about and the skull was completely understanding. Setting Star Swirl onto the nightstand, Spike changed out of his armor and laid on top of the covers with his blanket, unwilling to completely disturb its current condition. Something rested on his knee and he nearly leapt out of bed. A small, big-eyed reptile sat watching him, his head curiously tilted to the side.
“Gummy?”
The alligator slowly blinked and then rotated in place, kneading at the blanket until he was comfortable enough and laid down. Spike chuckled and reached over to scratch beneath Gummy's chin, which earned him a light rumbling purr. Everypony thought that the alligator was just like any other lizard and Pinkie was just being Pinkie. However, if you were perceptive, then you’d notice the minute expressions and tics that told you that Gummy was actually quite intelligent. Right now, the sagging tail, half-lidded eyes and clamped jaws signaled to Spike that he missed his owner.
“Yeah...me too, buddy. I miss her too.” He placed his arms beneath his head and sighed. “I miss all of you girls. Good night Twilight, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Applejack, Pinkie Pie and Rarity.” I'll save all of you and put things right. I promise. ------------------------------------------------------------------------*---------------------------------------------------------------------
“As you can see, he rests in his friend’s room. The dragon now wallows in his own gloom.”
The mirror’s surface revealed the image of a depressed Spike and his attempt to unsuccessfully lose himself in the blissfulness of sleep. There was a swirling array of light and Zecora’s face once more came into view. “Your evil plan has taken root. The tree of pain bears the most bitter of fruit. Now that Spike is at his low, how will you take advantage of his woe?”
Discord reclined upon his throne with a chocolate milkshake as two alicorns begrudgingly fanned him off with oversized leaves, garbed in matching metal bikinis and chained to the dais via chain leashes. After keeping Celestia and Luna trapped inside stone, he decided to put them to work as his handmaidens, feeding him grapes, massaging his knobby knees, making him towering swiss cheese sandwiches on rye. There was nothing more pleasurable to him than seeing the snobby princesses brought down to the level of servitude. Every now and then, he’d catch either one or both of them shooting him a death glare but he chose to ignore them. Without their horns or the Elements of Harmony, what sort of threat did they serve?
Finishing his glass, Discord chucked it behind him, where it detonated in a fiery explosion before combing his goatee. "For the moment? Nothing."
Zecora stared at him. “‘Nothing?’ You toy with the dragon and try to put him in the grave. What plan do you have for him, you chimeric knave?”
Discord lazily shrugged. “Insult me all you want but I’m still here and you’re in there. As for the dragon? I’ll get back to him soon enough.” He caught Celestia scowling at him and grinned. “Is something amiss, my dear?”
“No, Your Most Chaoticness,” Celestia replied through gritted teeth.
“Are you quite certain? I can’t help but feel as though you’re upset with me.”
Luna instead growled, "Thou shall not harm a single scale on Spike's head!"
Zecora and Celestia's eyes frightfully shot over to Discord The draconequus was filing his talons with a cheese grater. “And, um...what are you going to do about it?”
Luna opened her mouth and then promptly shut it.
“That’s what I thought,” Discord stated. “You princesses talk a big game but in the end, you’re just silly foals playing dress-up in your mommy’s clothing.” He then turned his attention back towards Zecora. “To answer your question, I’m letting him rest a bit before the game resumes. He’ll be looking for me, peering around every corner waiting for me to make a move. Why not let him stew a bit in that fear, let the paranoia consume him? It’s more fun that way.”
Celestia dropped to the floor to lay prostrate at Discord’s feet. “Please, I’m begging you, Discord. Do what you want with me but leave Spike alone.” Tears streamed down her ivory cheeks. “Please.”
Discord smiled sardonically. “Oh, the love that one has for their child, be they real or adopted.” He then tapped his chin with an eagle’s talon. “How about...NOT?!” He raised her chin up with his paw and leaned in close, their mouths only inches away. “Still, I love the way you grovel, Celestia. It suits you.” He traced the contours of her face with his talon. "You know, I've always found you beautiful."
Celestia wrenched her face away and lay shivering on the floor. Meanwhile, a red-faced Luna thrashed angrily at her chains. "Don't touch my sister! Don't you ever touch her!"
Discord frowned and snapped his fingers, transforming Luna into a blue puppy. "If you're going to behave like a dog then that's what you'll be. I mean, you've always been a bit of a bitch."
Sleep eluded Spike's grasp so he laid awake in bed, the only audible sounds in his temporary bedroom being those of Gummy's light snores as the alligator squirmed on his legs. The Cakes were sleeping and Star Swirl had powered down, leaving the drake with nopony to talk to and thus he was alone once more with his thoughts. His gaze fell upon the slug-horn on the nightstand and something about it made him want to double-check it. He very carefully reached over to take it, making certain that he didn’t wake up Gummy in the process, and examined the instrument. He didn’t know where the old stallion had gotten it but it certainly wasn’t something you could pick up at your local mercantile.
Even a non-mage like Spike could detect the magic the horn possessed as it hummed and vibrated in his hands. The old-timer promised that it’d give him the strength and courage of thirty stallions but what use could that be against Discord, someone that can literally move mountains? He shook his head and set the horn aside, this time observing the cloth-wrapped staff leaning against the wall. It was arguably the most powerful object in Equestria and the only tool capable of taking down the Lord of Chaos, yet he had absolutely no idea how to use it. I wish Twilight was here. She’d have the answers.
No matter what Spike did, the Staff just refused to work. This bugged him to no end as he could feel the powerful light magic that pulsated throughout the artifact, coursing through it like arcing bolts of electricity. He’d asked Star Swirl about it, to which the ex-greatest wizard alive theorized that since the Staff had absorbed the combined magics of the Elements of Harmony, it required one whom it designated of being worthy to wield it, someone who embodied the virtues of laughter, magic, loyalty, kindness, honesty and generosity. Spike shuffled in bed and sighed. Without his friends there, who could possibly be able to use the Elements of Harmony?
The next morning, Spike enjoyed a nice breakfast with the Cakes, who were overjoyed at having company, and the three chatted amicably with Star Swirl, though he was annoyed at Gummy’s insistence of gnawing on his horn. Cleaning the drool off of Star Swirl, Spike hitched him to his belt and exited Sugarcube Corner, a noticeable bounce in his step. Whether it was from the home-cooked meal, sleeping in an actual bed or simply the thrill at being back home, he couldn’t tell but decided not to question it. It wasn’t common for him to have a good day and he wasn’t about to waste it pondering.
Despite the peaceful location, Spike made sure to strap the Staff of Harmony to his back and his sword in its scabbard, his palm resting atop the pommel. After making a habit of being armed at all times during his travels, it was hard for the drake to resist leaving his weapons behind and besides, you never know when things might turn south. He slowly wound his way through town, studying each and every building, noticing how familiar yet alien they all appeared to him. Even after a single year, Ponyville seemed almost unrecognizable to Spike, though living in the Crystal Empire and becoming accustomed to the frigid weather of the Frozen North may’ve been a factor. The eternally icy realm had been, for whatever strange reason, left untouched by Discord’s influence, whether on purpose or it simply somehow escaped his notice. All those that lived there hoped and prayed for the latter.
Spike suddenly froze, his entire body suddenly rendered inert upon finding himself standing in front of the Carousel Boutique, his heart inexplicably stopping yet racing at the exact same time. He hadn’t even been aware that he was heading in that direction; the boutique was one of the last places he’d ever want to visit. The vibrant purples and yellows were now faded, the paint chipped and either bare or still peeling in several spots, giving the building a dying, cancerous appearance. Yellowing, wild grass rose to meet the bottom of the first floor windows and the spire leaned slightly to the left like a wooden fang. If Rarity was here to see the state of her pride and joy, she’d drag out her fainting couch, plop onto it and rise after a week of shock-induced catatonia.
“S-spike? Is that you?”
The dragon shook himself awake and stared at the door of the boutique, not having realized that it’d been opened or that somepony had been trying to get his attention. A white unicorn mare with a two-tone, purple and pink mane was situated in the doorway, her green eyes wide with shock as she took in the sight of her visitor. Spike blinked and it took him a minute to recognize the mare. The last time he’d seen her, she was a tiny little filly. Now she was a mare and a pretty one at that.
“Sweetie Belle? My Celestia, is that really…oof!”
Everything spun as Spike abruptly found himself in a surprisingly vice-like embrace and whirled around like a top. Dragons were known for their thick skins and even thicker bones but at that moment, Spike was actually kind of scared that the force of the mare’s forelegs would break his rib cage and shatter his spine. Mercifully, the embrace ended and Spike found himself back on terra firma, gasping for air as Sweetie Belle blushed and rubbed the back of her head sheepishly.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Spike! Are-are you alright?”
“I’m okay,” Spike wheezed and gave her a thumb’s up. Once he could breathe again, he straightened himself out and gave her a once over. “Wow Belle, you...grew up.”
Sweetie Belle giggled. “Thanks. You did too. Gosh, I can’t believe you’re here! Everypony heard all kinds of rumors about you since you vanished. Some ponies even said that you were dead or worse.” Her expression then became serious. “What did happen to you anyway? I thought you weren’t coming back, especially after Rarity…”
She let the sentence hang and Spike couldn’t blame her, since losing a member of your family, especially one that you were close to and idolized would be a huge blow to anypony. Despite his feelings towards the fashionista, Spike knew that his despair at her disappearance was nothing compared to that of Sweetie Belle’s or their parents. Kneeling so that they were at eye level, he then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her towards his chest. He caressed the back of her head, noticing how silky smooth it was and how it nearly reached her shoulders. For the next few minutes, neither one of them spoke a word, allowing their shared grief to do the talking.
They finally pulled away and smiled at one another. Sweetie Belle ran a hoof through her mane and looked at the ground. “Thanks Spike. I’m so glad that you’re home. Kind of reminds me of the old days. You know, back when us Crusaders would drag you into our hair-brained schemes to try to get our cutie marks?”
Spike snorted, “I remember those days all too well. So what happened with Scootaloo and Apple Bloom. Do you three still see each other?”
"Scootaloo is now a town guard and Apple Bloom's been working the farm so I don’t see them as much, but yeah, we still hang out. I took over as the town’s seamstress and while I’m not as good as Rarity, I still know my way around a needle and thread.”
“Excuse me, but aren’t you going to introduce me? I hate being left out of the conversation,” Star Swirl piped up, causing Sweetie Belle to nearly leap out of her own skin.
"Ohmygoddesswhatthehellisthat?!"
A bemused chuckle escaped Spike's mouth and after explaining the situation to Sweetie Belle, was able to calm her down, though she continued to eye the skull apprehensively. “...And that’s the long and short of it. Trust me, he’s harmless. A little whiny maybe, but he means no harm.”
Sweetie Belle stepped a little closer. "O-okay, if you insist. Um...hello there."
"Hello, pleasure to meet you, Miss Belle."
"Now that we're all acquainted," Spike interjected with an eye roll, "Sweetie Belle, do you think that you could take me to see Apple Bloom and Scootaloo? I'd like to see them too."
“I’d love to, Spike!” Sweetie Belle nodded sweetly and trotted past him. Spike had to admit, she certainly became a lot more sophisticated and demure since he’d last seen her. Honestly, it worked for her, giving her the appearance of a well-to-do young lady and she’d no doubt make a lucky stallion very happy one day. She’s like a younger Rarity… Spike banished the thought as quickly as it had appeared and followed Sweetie Belle, receiving greetings from townsfolk new and old.
They soon arrived at a guard tower overlooking the northwest side of the town's outer wall, a thatch-roofed gray-stone structure watched over by five, grim-faced ponies in full-armor, albeit slightly dented and covered in flecks of rust. Spike quickly recognized Snips and Snails, whose faces lacked their trademark goofy obliviousness and were instead creepily stoic, their long, sullen faces giving them the appearance of much-older stallions. What in the hell happened to this place? Have things really gotten this bad?
"Well, well, well. Look who decided to show up." A pegasus mare stepped out of the tower's entrance and strode towards Spike and Sweetie Belle. Removing her helmet, she revealed a mane of purple hair that'd been tied up into a ponytail. A scar in the shape of an upside down question mark adorned her left cheek and jawline. As opposed to the tiny appendages Spike recalled in the past, a pair of strong and rather large wings unfurled themselves. "And here I was thinking that you were lying in a ditch somewhere."
"Scootaloo?"
Sweetie Belle placed herself in between the two. "Come on, Scoots. Can't we just handle this civilly like grown adults…-?"
Scootaloo held a hoof up in front of Sweetie Belle’s face as she passed her and then stopped directly in front of Spike. She too had become rather lovely, albeit in a different way. While Sweetie Belle was soft and delicate, Scootaloo had become hard and abrasive. Muscles rippled beneath her armor, a testament to her training and an indication of her combat prowess. Perhaps she’d agree to a sparring match. That is, if she didn’t try to kill Spike first.
“Hello Scootaloo. Wow, you grew up! And such nice wings too!” Spike gave the pegasus a large, toothy grin, hoping that his compliments would buy him enough time to run away. Scootaloo narrowed her gaze and then two things happened next. First, and unsurprisingly, she punched Spike in the snout, though it was barely hard enough to inflict any kind of pain. Secondly, and most definitely shocking, she dove forward and wrapped her forelegs around Spike, resting her head on his torso.
“I’m glad to see that you’re not dead,” Scootaloo said softly and Spike could’ve sworn he heard a sniffle in there. “Everypony was saying that Discord killed you along with the others but I didn’t want to believe it. Especially not Rainbow Dash.”
"Hey, knock that off," Spike half-heartedly admonished, pulling her into a hug. "We don't know that they're dead. Besides, Rainbow Dash is too awesome to die."
"I-I guess." Scootaloo stepped backwards, her eyes downcast.
"Scoots." Spike gently grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. "They're out there. I just know it. Discord wouldn't just get rid of them, not when he could just as easily toy with them. I will find them. I promise."
A smile crossed Scootaloo's face. "Thanks Spike. I-we-all missed you."
"I missed all of you too. Now then, I believe there's a certain earth pony missing from this trio. Let's go find her."
Sweet Apple Acres was certainly smaller than Spike remembered, though that could've just been from his recent growth spurt considering he stood just as tall as most of the trees. The smell of (what else) apples wafted through the air, returning the drake to a more innocent time, one before draconequus dictators and madcap landscapes that spawned out of a demented child's nightmare. The old barn had been replaced with a larger model that resembled a small wooden factory with the Sweet Apple Acres logo plastered on the side. A group of ponies scampered in and out of the building and by the matching overalls and hats, Spike guessed that they were all employees. The trio stopped before the door as a tall red stallion exited, a corncob pipe clenched between his teeth.
The stallion froze, his pipe nearly tumbling out of his mouth. "Sp-spike? Is that you?"
"Eeyop." Spike held a claw out. "How've you been, Big Mac?"
Gripping Spike's claw, Big Mac thumped him on the shoulder. "Wow, ya filled out. Ah remember when ya were tiny."
"Growth spurt and heavy lifting. Since when do you smoke?"
Big Mac slipped his pipe into the front pocket of his overalls. "Since Ah had ta take over fer Granny Smith. Runnin' the farm is a lot more stressful when yer in charge of everything. So, Ah smoke."
Sweetie Belle daintily cleared her throat. "Have you seen Apple Bloom? We were hoping to talk to her."
"Yeah, it's been too long since we've seen her," Scootaloo added.
"Yeah, she's out in tha field. She'll be mighty surprised ta see y'all, especially ya Spike."
After thanking Big Mac, they headed in the direction that he indicated, making their way past some townsfolk that greeted Spike and welcomed him back. It was really nice until they began to bombard Spike with questions, such as where he'd been and the location of the Element Bearers. Thankfully, Scootaloo was able to get the crowd to back off by threatening to throw them in the stockade. Once they were far enough away, the three shared at this, with Sweetie Belle doing an exaggeration of Scootaloo's "tough voice." It really helped having a guard around.
A field of light brown soil lay stretched before the three, its surface scrapped by several ponies dragging plows behind them. Spike knew that times were tough but seeing the farmland being worked by a group of ponies rather than three was jarring to say the least. Sweet Apple Acres had always been a family operated enterprise so it must've hurt Big Mac to see his home being tilled by non-Apples. Briefly searching the faces, Spike quickly picked out a young mare and called over to her. Despite the time that's passed, he had no doubts that it was Apple Bloom and this was confirmed when the mare came charging up to them.
Apple Bloom still wore a bow in her mane, though it appeared small and it was hard to tell if it was a different one or she simply grew into it. Her formerly long mane was now styled in a pixie cut, which was partially concealed beneath a ten-gallon hat and she wore a bandana around her neck. While not as fit and muscular as Scootaloo, it was clear that she kept herself in shape, no doubt from all of the exhausting farm work she had to perform. Now grown up and a working mare, Apple Bloom's features were an odd blend of soft and hard, possessing sharp cheekbones, fuzzy, rounded cheeks, big lips and a strong jawline. Coupled with her powerful limbs and spacious hips, she was certainly a knockout.
"Well Ah'll be darned. Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo!" The mares gathered together in a group huddle, laughing and whooping at the reunion of three old childhood friends. "It's so good to see ya! Ah missed ya!"
"We missed you too, Apple Bloom! It's been too long!" Sweetie Belle squealed.
"Yeah! Things have been boring without you!" Scootaloo agreed.
They shared one more eee! moment before Apple Bloom extracted herself from the group hug and stopped right in front of Spike. She looked him over from head to toe and smiled brightly. "Howdy Spike. It's been too awhile."
"That it has, Apple Bloom," Spike nodded and opened his arms. The farm mare took the invitation and leapt into his embrace, filling his nostrils with the smell of sweat, dirt, cinnamon and apples. They reminded him of Applejack, something that both saddened and delighted him. "It's good to see you again, Bloom."
"Ye too, Spike. Welcome home."
**************************************
“Young Spike is meeting up with old friends; the goal being to make amends,” Zecora’s voice echoed over the image of the dragon sitting with three young mares, the four of them laughing and enjoying each other’s company. The image faded and her usual grim face reappeared. “Now that the drake’s whereabouts have been made a fact, what nefarious deed will you next enact?”
Discord stroked his goatee thoughtfully, the gears noticeably whirring in motion as he concocted his next scheme. And this bothered Zecora greatly. When the draconequus was simply acting on a whim, he was a tornado of devastation but putting his mischievous mind to use? Then he was a hurricane of mayhem. Sitting back in his inflatable chair, Discord pulled out a seemingly innocuous marble bag.
“I think I’ve toyed with little Spike long enough,” he replied, pulling out a marble with his finger and thumb and holding it up to the light. Zecora could make out the form of a pink mare lying curled up, her gray mane obscuring her face as she noiselessly whimpered in fear. “It’s time to step things up a notch, don’t you?”